Francis to Frances

"No!" I protested, "I am not, repeat not wearing a brassiere!"

"What's all this 'No' business? Martha asked as she came upstairs.

"She wants me to wear a padded brassiere!" I explained.

"Oh, well," Martha exclaimed, "That does sound like a good idea! you are rather flat chested."

"No!" I said, "No way."

"But it will give the game away," May explained, "And you know Pastor Taylour says it is a sin to for a woman and a boy to stay in the same house when they aren't married or brother and sister." "Exactly!" Martha agreed and she walked to the drawer unit and pulled out black brassiere and some tissue paper, "Just try it, ok?" she asked.

"Read my lips," I replied.

"Don't be churlish," May admonished, "Just try it, please."

"It would be a shame," she said, "If Pastor Taylour found out you are a boy and we had to send you home."

I swallowed, my whole future was at stake here, "Ok," I agreed, "I'll try it!"

I peeled my tee shirt off and let Martha put the brassiere round my non existent breasts and adjust the straps, and then she filled the cups with tissue paper and let me put my tee shirt back on, "See," she said, "No one will know!"

It felt as odd as hell wearing a brassiere, all scratchy and unnatural but I had to admit when i looked in the mirror that even I wouldn't have realised I wasn't a girl.

"That's perfect!" Martha agreed, "Pastor Taylour will never know!"

I had the chance to test the theory next morning as I went to the ten o'clock service at the church, no one took any notice of me right till the end when Martha and May made sure we were almost last in line to shake his hand as we left.

"And who's this delectable lass?" Pastor Taylour asked as Mrs Baxter hovered nearby.

"Frances, Pastor," Martha explained, "Our nephew's child."